A Loss of Light

Can fairies exist if there are none left who believe in them? Fear of death is a natural response, but what of the panic and the terror in the face of extinction? What required measures would preserve an entire race of peaceful beings whose pulse relies on others’ confidence in their actuality?

In a world where belief in magical creatures is waning, so too wanes the lives of these mythic beings. When faced with eradication, a species must go against its nature to survive.

——————

Near the edge of the pond on the border of his parents’ estate on a calm autumn day—warm, but with a gentle breeze—Gordon picked up a smooth, grey stone.

“You’re crazy, Annie,” Gordon said. He skipped the stone on the calm, shimmering surface of the pond, parting the multicolored leaves and creating ripples that petered out at the center.

“I’m not,” Annie said, and got up from her seated position near the edge of the pond and dusted herself off. “She’s right here.” She pointed to Farabelle who hovered beside her with sun-orange hair, emerald eyes, and a powder blue dress.

Farabelle waved her arms in as grand a gesture as her tiny body could, fairy dust spurting at every movement. Then she darted around like a hummingbird, a musical note played at each flap of a wing. She shouted at the top of her lungs: “Here, I’m over here!”

“Can’t you hear that?” Annie asked.

Gordon shook his head. “This is ridiculous, Annie.”

“Don’t you see the shimmering light? Here?” Annie pointed and Farabelle flapped her shining translucent wings extra hard, emitting a powerful, warm glow.

“Here?” Gordon asked, pointing at Farabelle.

“Yes!” Annie and Farabelle shouted.

“That’s the reflection of the pond, dumbass.”

To a nonbeliever, a fairy’s sparkle appears to be nothing more than a play of light off of a surface, a flickering bulb at the end of its life, sunlight glimmering on the waves.

“No, it’s not. It’s Farabelle.”

“Stop!” Gordon said. “You’re getting too old for this shit. Mom and dad are getting worried. They think that you’re some kind of freak.”

“Don’t listen to him, Annie,” Farabelle said, then blew a raspberry at Gordon.

“You’re right. I need to ignore him.” But she couldn't stop the tears that came.

Gordon muttered weirdo under his breath and walked toward the path that led back to their house. “You coming?”

Annie cleared her throat, then said, “I think I’ll stay with Farabelle for a bit.”

“Whatever,” Gordon said, then picked up a stick and beat back the branches that obstructed him.

Annie let out a long, breathy sigh and sat at the edge of the pond. “What are we going to do, Farabelle? Even my brother doesn't believe me. I tried to tell my friends at school, but they all stopped talking to me. I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“No!” Farabelle said, “We need you. There are so few of us left. If more people disbelieve… Well, I’d rather not think about it.”

“I know,” Annie said, “I’ve tried everything. And mom wants me to stop believing. She wishes I were different, I can tell.”

Annie hugged her knees and looked out at the pond, a swift breeze causing soft undulations over the surface. Farabelle landed on her shoulder and nuzzled her head against Annie’s neck. The peaceful sound of the breeze brushing the foliage and the humming tune of Farabelle’s slowly flapping wings caused Annie to daydream of her breathtaking experiences in Neverland. She remembered being six years old and how there were hundreds of fairies fluttering around the rainbow caverns, glittering with the love of their believers. It was the most magical experience she had ever had and couldn't imagine anything better, better than her first trip to a candy shop.

Each subsequent visit, however, Annie was greeted by fewer fairies. And now she couldn’t visit Neverland because the fairies hadn’t enough power to bring her there. She wanted to visit again, to experience the magic, to help the fairies.

“Annie!” her mother shouted. “Dinner!”

Annie, removed from her reverie, sprung up. Farabelle jolted from her shoulder like a housefly disturbed. “I’m sorry Farabelle,” Annie said, “I’ve got to go. You’re welcome to join me.”

Farabelle shook her head. “I’d love to, but being around too many nonbelievers will make me feel weak.”

“I’m sorry Farabelle, I wish it were different.”

“Me too, Annie… Same time next week?”

“Of course,” Annie said, then tapped Farabelle on her tiny nose and made her way back to her house. Farabelle took leave back to Neverland.

——————

When Farabelle arrived in Neverland, she made her way through the rainbow caverns—once filled with opaque, vibrant wavy rainbows that emanated joy and comfort, it was now only a shadow of what it once was: the rainbows translucent, almost transparent. The radiant gold and silver clocks and shining doodads that adorned the cavern walls had lost their luster. Farabelle’s flapping wings provided more glow and warmth in the caverns than all of the rainbows combined. She slowly drifted through the caverns, her head held low until she reached the central chamber. Tetrina spotted Farabelle and zipped over to her.

“Any progress with Annie’s brother?” Tetrina asked.

Farabelle shook her head. “How is Reythia?”

Tetrina looked over her shoulder to a small group of sobbing fairies, they were all that remained in the entire world. When Tetrina turned back to Farabelle—eyes filled with glimmering tears—she shook her head. “Margaret stopped believing. Reythia’s gone.”

Farabelle couldn't help but shed tears as she mourned her lost friend. She and Tetrina floated over to their weeping companions and when they saw the tears in each others’ eyes, they let out a collective sob. They put their arms around each other—their wings flapping slowly, emitting a somber tune—and bowed their heads.

Tetrina broke away from the group and said, “Now that we’re all here, we must discuss our next measure.”

All the fairies looked amongst themselves, mumbling things like “We’ve done all we can” and “Like what? and “Does anyone have any ideas?”.

“I’ve come up with something,” Tetrina said, cutting through the comments. “It is because we are loved, trusted, and believed in that we hold on to life with such vigor. But that may change.” She paused. “I warn you, you may not like what I ask of you.”

All the fairies, initially eager, became hesitant.

“What is it?” Farabelle asked.

“I’d rather not say to anyone but the one who does the deed. Though it will buy us many years, I fear whoever goes through with this may lose their light forever. We can use those years to figure out a new strategy.”

The fairies collectively gasped at the thought of losing their light. Losing one’s light could mean death. Or worse.

“What about you?” Farabelle asked.

“I’m afraid, just as you are,” Tetrina said. “But, if no one volunteers, then we must draw names.”

Everyone shared a nervous look around, then agreed. Names must be drawn.

When Farabelle’s name was pulled from the basin, Tetrina pulled her aside. As the plan was relayed, Farabelle’s eyes widened.

Farabelle pulled away and shook her head. “I can’t,” Farabelle said.

“You must. Please, Farabelle. For us.”

Farabelle looked around at the few fairies whose shimmering, melancholic eyes bore into her heart, the last of her kind, and acquiesced. She nodded and sulked off to her chambers.

——————

Months had passed since the fairies convened, and Farabelle used this time to get closer with Annie. The calm pond that hosted leaves and twigs in autumn now hid under a sheet of ice.

Bundled up like an Arctic explorer, Annie sat in her favorite spot by the edge of the frozen pond. Farabelle sat in her preferred place: the little spot where Annie’s shoulder and neck meet.

“Do you think that will work?” Annie asked.

“We do,” Farabelle said, “All of the fairies do.”

“And all I need to do is put a flashlight under the ice in the middle of the pond and call my brother to come look at it?”

Farabelle nodded. “And when he comes to look at the glow in the pond, he’ll fall through and I will be there to save the day!” She floated in front of Annie, hands on hips, in a heroic pose. Annie laughed.

“But if he doesn’t believe in you, how can you save him?”

“That’s where I’ll need you again. I need you to close your eyes and give me every ounce you’ve got. Believe as you’ve never believed in anything else, and I’ll be able to pull him out.”

“And then he’ll believe?”

“Mmhmmm. He’ll have no choice!”

Annie nodded. “I can do that.”

——————

The time had come to enact Farabelle’s plan. Annie placed the flashlight in a sealed sandwich baggie and tied a rock to it, tip-toed over the frozen pond, made a big hole in the thick ice with her father’s tools, and placed the illuminated flashlight at its center. It glowed just beneath the surface. When she got back to the edge of the pond, she admired her handiwork and smiled. The eerie soft sheen of the flashlight, surrounded by the winter’s dusk, begged to be examined.

She waved to Farabelle who waited near the flashlight, then ran back to the house, cold air filled her lungs. She couldn’t contain her excitement. At last, her brother would believe, and one day she was going to bring him to Neverland, and together they would float amongst the fairies in the rainbow caverns.

She arrived at his room, out of breath, and said, “Gordon, hurry! I want you to meet Farabelle, she's in the pond.”

Gordon rolled his eyes and attempted to shut his door. Annie forced her way in.

“If you come with me and you don't see her, I’ll never mention Farabelle again, okay? Look.” She pulled him over to his window and pointed at the glowing pond.

Gordon squinted his eyes. “What the heck? It’s just the moon or something.” He looked at Annie, her face expectant. ”Fine.”

He put on his coat and followed Annie to the center of the pond where Farabelle and the light were waiting. When he neared the light, he said, “What is—” but the weakened ice cracked and he fell through. He released a massive gasp once submerged.

“Help, Annie! Please!” he shouted, as he attempted to grab hold of the slippery ice, his joints freezing up.

But Annie didn’t help. She closed her eyes and thought of Farabelle, put all her belief in the fairy’s hands. But instead of lifting Gordon out of the water, Farabelle used this bit of power to cause the hole in the ice to reseal, fortifying it, and ensuring Gordon’s demise.

There was silence. When Annie opened her eyes, she saw Gordon floating under the ice, unmoving. She started banging on the ice, but it wouldn't give.

“What did you do?” she shouted.

Her parents heard the tumult and found Annie in the center of the frozen pond and, when they neared, Gordon. The mother shrieked, the father ran for tools to break the ice.

“It was Farabelle, she—”

“No more, Annie,” her mother said between sobs, “Never say that name again.”

Annie turned to see Farabelle behind her in a chrysalis. When she emerged, her wings were as black as a new moon night, her skin pale and cold, her eyes were midnight. All joy had gone from her existence. “I’m sorry, Annie,” she said.

——————

Annie never spoke to Farabelle again, though she didn't stop believing. She couldn't. The lingering loss of her brother, her parent’s eternal scorn, and the guilt of assisting in her brother’s death ensured Farabelle would always be on her mind, driving her to insanity.

At the cost of her best friend’s love, a guilty conscience, and a lifetime of sadness, Farabelle achieved her goal: she bought the fairies seventy years.